


Little Red Riding Cas

by Sakuraiai



Series: Disney Arc [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Animal Traits, Biting, Castiel as Little Red Riding Hood, Conspiracy, Cute, Fluff and Angst, Hallucinations, Light Angst, M/M, Mutual Pining, Wolf Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-14
Updated: 2018-02-08
Packaged: 2019-01-19 02:15:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 14,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12401031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sakuraiai/pseuds/Sakuraiai
Summary: Everyone has heard of the tale of Little Red, the young man who ventured deep into the dark woods where his grandmother lived to give her some cakes and other treats when she was poorly.But that was not the story of our Little Red.Castiel Novak never had a good life, he had been scorned, and his family hated him. His father covered him in a hood so he couldn't see the face if the boy that murdered his mother at birth.Everything was far from perfect......until he met Dean.But was the big bad wolf worth it?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this is just a quick fluff bunny of a previous fic that just won't leave me alone. Just something to help me fight my writers block for Nanowrimo, hope you like~!
> 
> (Will be rewriting it soon.)

_Once upon a t_ _ime, in a small country village_ _lived a young country boy. He was the most_ _handsome_ _boy who was ever seen._  

_His mother and father were very fond of him, and his grandmother only doted on him more. The grandmother made the young man a little red riding hood. It suited him so extremely well that everyone called him Little Red Riding Hood._

 

~~ 

 

Everyone has heard of the tale of Little Red, the young man who ventured deep into the dark woods where his grandmother lived to give her some cakes and other treats when she was poorly. 

But that was not the story of our Little Red. 

Little Castiel Novak. 

All clever fairy tales start in a wondrous little village, where the young, beautiful boy or girl lived. But this was far from the truth. Castiel may have been beautiful, he may have been special, but he was by no means happy. 

It was late into the night on the birth of Castiel Novak that his entire life changed for the worst. 

Charles Novak was a man of great wealth. He was a loving father, a caring husband and helpful and considerate of everyone around him. He had a lifestyle that could never be tainted by the outside world.  But he liked things to be perfect.  The perfect house, the perfect car, a perfect watch set to a perfect time, a perfectly aligned tie that went with his perfect suit.  

Perfect, perfect, perfect. 

His true love for his wife was known far and wide, no one could compare to their relationship. His wife, in return, loved him just as greatly. Rebecca Novak, a perfect name for the perfect wife. 

As a result of their perfect love, they rejoiced when Rebecca was pregnant. And when she had finally given birth to two beautiful children, Michael and Lucifer, perfect names, angelic names, archangel names. They were beautiful, yet polar opposites, Michael with his beautiful blue eyes and dark hair, and Lucifer, with his blonde hair and flawless sun-kissed skin. 

In their love, the Novak’s had another child, another beautiful boy that held the very rays of sunshine within his eyes, they named him after the archangel, Gabriel. He was perfect, if not a bit tricky, but their family was balanced, a perfect son, Michael, the quiet son, Lucifer and the trickster son, Gabriel. 

So when Rebecca was found to be pregnant once again, years after Gabriel had been born, they only rejoiced that much more. 

Everything was perfect. 

Except…their fourth and final child was far from perfect. 

It had been a long and extraneous labour, there had been too many complications, too much blood had been lost, too many medical words had been thrown at Charles as he waited for their fourth perfect child.  

Too much… He couldn’t take it. He fell onto his eldest sons, his heart lodged deep in his throat, tears threatening to fall. 

Rebecca didn’t make it. 

Everything around Charles cracked, his entire family, his perfect life, his perfect world. What was the point if he didn’t have his perfect wife by his side? His beautiful sons would no longer have their mother. This new baby... 

This baby. He was the reason Rebecca had died. 

The nurse entered the large, perfectly made bedroom, a small bundle wrapped in a light blue blanket cradled in her arms, a smile on her begotten face. 

“Congratulations,” The nurse’s smile was small, she gave the bundle to Charles. “Another healthy baby boy, and a beauty too.” 

Charles took the small blue bundle in his arms and lifted the soft cloth that fell over the baby. His eyes widened. The baby was so small and so very pale. His eyes were such a rich shade of blue, but his pretty skin, one that would grow to perfection was sallow, sunken in. This baby, this beautiful small thing. He was the reason their family was now broken. It was no longer perfect. 

Charles looked up at the nurse who seemed not to notice anything wrong as she left them to their family. Charles cried in anguish, holding the baby out at arms length, no longer able to keep his emotions in. He knew it was wrong to blame this small baby, but he had lost his wife. His love, his everything, so this small child could live. He had barely been in the world an hour, and yet Charles could not look at him. 

The baby, only wanting his fathers’ touch, held his arms out to the man, clutching his pudgy fingers together in an attempt to get closer. 

“Father?” Gabriel’s lilting sunshine voice sounded from the door, he rushed over to his fathers’ side, eyeing the baby with a look on content. He understood what his father was feeling, but this beautiful baby, his little brother, wasn’t one to be blamed. 

“What’s his name?” Gabriel asked, taking the baby from his father and holding him to his chest. The baby raised his arms and wrapped his fingers tight over Gabriel’s finger. “Is he Raphael?” 

The baby tilted his head, his mouth slightly agape in awe as he gazed up at them with his deep rich eyes. Charles looked at him, his dark eyes panning over the young baby. 

“No.” He said finalisingly. “His name will not be Raphael,” 

He suddenly got up, walking over to the neatly trimmed red lining of the baby’s crib. He took the baby from Gabriel and wrapped the blanket around the baby’s body, holding him close to his chest. He couldn’t help but melt at those pretty blue eyes of the baby’s stared up into him. He had fallen in love with his baby at that moment. But his heart heated for another reason too. He knew he would not be able to look at this baby and not picture his wife, dead. 

It didn’t matter if this baby, who gurgled happily, clapping his hands together tiredly. He knew that this baby was blissfully aware of what his birth condemned him to have in his future. 

“Father, he looks beautiful in red,” Gabriel said, prodding at the blanket, happy that he had a little brother to dote on. The baby tried to reach for the finger, but found himself too tired to cope. His eyes blinked closed as he fell fast asleep in his fathers’ arms. 

For the first and last time. 

Charles laid the blanket up over the baby’s forehead, covering his eyes completely. He couldn’t look at those eyes, not without falling in love with his son again, and for feeling the heat of hatred for him. 

Thus began the hooded life of Castiel Novak. 

The Little Red Riding Hood. 

 

~~ 

 

Tying a knot on the laces of his boots, Castiel Novak straightened his black slacks, tapping the toe of his shoes on the wooden ground. He smoothed his deep blue tie and button up shirt, brushing his fingers along the hem of his long sleeves. He shrugged the large red cape over his body, pulling the hood over his head and eyes. 

Completely hidden. No skin showing. 

His phone vibrated in his pocket and he fished for it. He smiled at the caller ID and held the phone to his ear. “We’re waiting outside for you, Cas.” 

Peering out of the small window, Castiel noticed his friends sitting in a car outside the front of his house. He picked up his stack of school books, holding them close to his chest as he made his way down the grand staircase. He didn’t bother to glance at his father and eldest brothers, the never seemed to notice him anyway. 

Ever since he had been born, he had been stuck in his room. His father never looked at him, instead forced him to stay in his hood whenever he was near. His eldest brother, Michael shunned Castiel and his perfection, loathing his true-blue eyes, truer than his own.  Lucifer sneered at his pale skin, like alabaster, flawless, so much better than his own lovely skin.  But Gabriel, the trickster, he doted on his youngest brother. He was the best thing Castiel could ever ask for, acting as mother, father and brother. 

But the rest of his family, they hindered them with his perfectness. His true blue eyes that looked like they held the very sky above in them, his skin, white like snow, flawless. Perfect. 

But Castiel had been brought up to see these as imperfections. His eyes were too bright, too ugly. His skin was too pale, awful. He looked nothing like the people around him, the ones who he watched from his small window in his room. They were laughing, smiling, playing. Gone was the happy and carefree baby boy. Instead, Castiel was shrouded in the darkness under his hood. Never to see the world. 

His father had tried to hide his pure snow white skin, made his wear contacts to darken his eyes. But nothing worked. He had tried, and failed, so he kept the hood on Castiel, and told him to never take it off. It was only due to the Novak matriarch that he had been allowed to go to school. His father needed to keep up appearances and keep the Novak name great. And that meant his youngest son would go to school. 

But Castiel would  _never_ take off the hood. 

The other students thought Castiel wore the hood to hide his beauty. But they’d never know the true extent of why he was in here, why he was hiding. He was ugly, he was imperfect. Everything about him was wrong. 

His skin wasn’t like his friends, his eyes were too bright, almost ethereal. He looked nothing like his class mates at school. It was best if he stay hidden under the protection of his hood.  His friends didn’t bother him about it one bit, neither did they seem to care. He was a part of his hood, as much as his hood was a part of him. 

“I’m leaving,” Castiel muttered, knowing he was talking to deaf ears. 

His father or his siblings had never given him a fond farewell. Shaking his head, Castiel made for the door, pulling it open and shutting it soundly behind him. What he wouldn’t give to get away from this life. But he couldn’t, he didn’t want to tarnish his father’s name. His father had sacrificed so much to create what they now had. Castiel would not go against him. 

He took a deep breath of the fresh, dewy morning air, smiling at the sun peering through the clouds that hung over the city of Kansas for the past few days. Walking down the path of his home, he reached the gate, letting out a long breath as he finally left the confinements of the prison he called home. 

“Hey Red!” Sam Winchester, the tall, handsome dark haired driver smirked, ushering Castiel over to the other side of the car. 

“Sam, I’m surprised you’re up early. I heard your brother’s back in town,” Castiel smiled under his hood. The pretty boy, Kevin, got out from his seat and pulled the car door open. 

“Yeah, but we both had an early class, I let him sleep in,” Sam scratched the back of his head and smiled, moving to the passenger seat and letting Castiel sit next to a pretty red head. 

“Charlie,” Castiel greeted, straightening out his hood. 

“Sup’ Red,” But Charlie’s smile fell, she eyed him oddly, noticing something different about him this morning. “What’s the matter?” 

Strapping the seatbelt over his body, Castiel shook his head. “It’s nothing,” 

But he knew he might as well tell them what happened, they’d most definitely get it out of him some way throughout the day. “Another day where my father won’t even look at me,” 

Sam turned the wheel of the car, breaking at the traffic lights. He turned around to the young man in the hood. “That’s why I keep telling you,” His voice was low, almost growling and filled with annoyance. “—come live with me and Dean, we have enough space, and we’d be happy to have you,” 

Castiel tightened his grip of his textbooks. “I know you mean well,” 

“Then what’s the matter?” Sam asked, continuing to drive as the lights turned green. 

Castiel tightened the grip on the hem of his hood. “We’ve talked about this.” 

“Your parents put you in that hood so they could hide the world from you,” Kevin stated philosophically. Sam turned the radio’s volume down slightly. “Yet you’ve been through more cruelty than this world could ever give,” 

Charlie nodded in agreement. “You need to have some fun in your life, get out into the real world!” 

“Maybe I will…” 

 

~~

 

 

Castiel looked up at the university building as Sam parked his car in one of the empty parking lots of Kansas U. Castiel picked up his books and stepped out of the car, smiling brightly when he heard Charlie mutter ‘could you have parked any further?’ to Sam. Glad to be out of the confines of his home, Castiel rushed forward, ahead of the others. He turned around in the cool summer sun, soaking in the rays, his cloak billowing around his waist and thighs. 

“Let’s get going,” He called out to them, smiling happily and watching as they trudged behind him. 

The roar of a car brought Castiel back to reality as he swiftly turned, his cloak pirouetting around his body once again. He narrowed his eyes at the classic black car parking in the space just behind him. A gorgeous, classic 1967 Chevy Impala. The loud engine cut and the doors slid open, a man stepped out, his black boots and jean clad leg protruding from the car, followed by a lean and gorgeous figure, and plaid shirt that stretched over his lissome torso and god…that face. It was so beautiful. His eyes were such a perfect shade of candy green, electrifying. His dark blonde hair was spiky and styled over his face to give him a dangerous, yet sexy look. 

The tall man paused, raking his gaze over Castiel and his red hood. 

In all his life, Castiel had never seen anything like him. He swept a heated gaze over Castiel’s face and body, giving him a devilish grin that made Castiel’s knees weak. He took in deep breaths, it was all he could do not to moan. 

Who was this man? 

“Dean!” Sam called from behind them, bringing Castiel back to his senses. “Watch it, you almost ran Cas over,” 

Dean? 

As in  _Dean Winchester?_  

Oh god, this was Sam’s brother? 

Dean’s dark gaze bored into Castiel’s in an animalistic glare. He shut his car door and walked over to Castiel. His gait was like a predator, and Castiel felt like prey. His heart pounded with every step Dean took. 

“Little Red needs to watch where he’s going,” He growled low, leaning into Castiel in a way that made him yearn to lean into the strength of Dean’s hard body until he swooned, like all those women in those romance novels he devoured. 

Oh… This man was gorgeous. His sun kissed body held the muscular definition of an athlete. And those freckles, Castiel wanted to lick them, and run his hands all over Dean to see if he was just as hard and strong as he looked. He had to get a grip. 

“My name is not ‘little red’,” He said, anger lighting in his eyes. “It’s Castiel Novak,” 

Dean’s eyes widened and he laughed, a warm, rich sound that made Castiel’s insides tingly and warm. “Whatever you say, angel,” 

“It’s  _Castiel!_ ”  

But Dean just waved him off, turning to his younger brother and smirked. “See you after class, Sammy,” 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, its been a very long while.  
> Sorry guys, busy and depressing time of year.  
> Hopefully this makes up for it.

_How had this happened?_

A new semester meant new classes, and new classes meant a few new students from other classes, here and there. And though Castiel wasn't with Sam in a majority of his classes any more, he'd always be picked up by Dean Winchester. The man who he had slowly, ever so slowly, gotten used to, felt affection for. It wasn't a secret that Castiel loved Dean, ever since he had seen the blonde man all those years ago when he first came to Sam's house fro a school project, he had been enamoured with the older man, he had constantly asked Sam if it was possible to go to his house all the time, just so he could catch glimpses of the man he had liked.

Of the man he had fallen in love with.

And that was the problem, at first, Castiel had been damn sure that Dean Winchester would want nothing from him, that he'd see him as 'Sam's friend', but ever since he had taken his elective classes, wanting to finish his degree before he took over Bobby's Garage and turn it into something greater for the city -- one needed a business degree for feats such as that -- Castiel had been seeing him around campus too. 

Dean had been with Castiel, saying hello to him in the hallways, giving him  _that smile,_ and being friendly. And when Castiel's guard was lowered, when he was finally able to  _enjoy_ seeing Dean almost everywhere, that was when Dean had upped the ante. He had started touching Castiel, a brush of their hands here, an arm wrapped around his shoulders there. 

It was...thrilling, and frightening at the same time.

Because those touches increased, and  _damn_ were they welcome. He wasn't sure what that meant for  _them,_ and he wasn't about to get his hopes up, only for them to be crushed and mutilated when Dean would say 'they were only friends', or worse 'I only see you as Sammy's friend'.

But...everywhere he went, Dean was there.  Giving him that smile, the one that made the ground below his feet shiver and quake, made his heart thud madly in his chest, made his throat clog up with emotions. It was... _fuck,_ it was a feeling he wanted. He needed. He craved the attention he got from Dean. And though, to Dean he was probably just 'Sammy's friend from class', Dean was  _not_ Sam's big brother to him. 

He was  _Dean Winchester_  

And Castiel was hooked, addicted,  _in love._  

Class was dismissed and he picked up his satchel, holding his books close to his chest. Leaving the classroom, he felt an arm wrap around his waist once again and the heavy weight of his books being lifted. Only one person did that for him, one he expected. 

“Dean…” He smiled, turning to face the only male who made his heart race. Instead, his heart fell. 

Crowley stood before him, holding his books under his arm, a smirk on his lips. “Not quite, my sweet,” 

There was something about Crowley that really made Castiel want to stay far away from him. He didn't know what it was, but it was like there was something  _black_ radiating from the man. Crowley was  _not_ good people. No way, no how. But first and foremost, Castiel was a Novak, and being a Novak meant that he had to act a certain way. He could not lash out, people would just see him as the ugly person he really was.

“Hands off, demon,” Dean’s inaudible growl resonated through the entrance of the building. 

Castiel took his books from Crowley, not wanting the man taking his things. He made his way over to Dean and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, gasping when Dean pulled him close, wrapping an arm around his waist. 

“Paws off, howler,” Crowley replied, tugging on the cloaked Castiel once again. “I need to speak with him,” 

Dean growled angrily, eyes narrowing, lips in a frown. His throaty snarl made Castiel’s heart jump in dreaded delight.  _What was wrong with hi_ _m_ _?_ _That_ should not be turning him on. Taking in a deep berating breath, he gazed up at the predatory possessive male. 

“Dean, I’ll be right out.” He patted his hand on Dean's cheek, breaking the taller man from his revere. “Why don’t you wait with Sam in the car, I'll meet you there?” 

Dean nodded, tightening his grip around Castiel's middle. Castiel stood, frozen on the spot, as Dean bent towards him. He buried his nose into the crook of Castiel's neck, drawing in a deep breath.  Castiel swooned, the feel of Dean, the scent of him, whatever he was doing was just... _wow._  

A few moments later, Dean pulled back, ever so slightly, ready to leave after he got his fill. But Castiel didn't want him going far. He turned his head and before he knew  _what_ he was doing, he reached up and placed his lips on the corner of Dean's mouth.  

Oh god, literal sparks flew through him, making him shiver and shake in bliss. He moaned at the decadent taste of the man, wanting to reach up and just  _take._ Dean seemed to have the same idea, he reached for Castiel then, cupping his face with his large hands as his tongue hungrily explored every inch of Castiel's pliant mouth.  

 _Haaaa..._ Dean certainly knew how to kiss. His head was swimming, thoughts just...disappearing in to smoke, until there was nothing left but Dean, Dean,  _Dean_. 

It was only when Dean pulled away, leaving a cold feeling in Castiel when they parted, that he finally  realised just what he had done. Oh god, oh god, oh god, he had just  _kissed Dean Winchester!_ Dean was going to kill him, he was going to reject Castiel, rip out his heart and stomp on it.

"I'll be waiting," Dean murmured, pressing another chaste kiss below his ear. "I'm taking my little morsel home with me,"

_Oh god..._

Castiel’s heart pounded harder than it ever had before as he experienced the first taste of happiness. He wanted to continue and drink in from his lips until he was lost in the heady drunkenness of it all. He watched, his heart aching, as Dean made his way through the corridors until he was out of sight. 

He wanted to know more about the mysterious Dean Winchester… 

“Shall we get going, Castiel?” Crowley asked, his voice a little strained from the sudden display of affection. 

Castiel, surprised that there was someone around him -- whooo, he had just kissed Dean freakin Winchester, he needed a moment, or five, to just come back to life. That kiss had killed him, shook the very foundations under him. Because Dean hadn't rejected him! What did that make them? Boyfriends? Lovers? Were they just playing around? Did Dean had any motive?

He shook the thoughts from his head and nodded at the man behind him. Crowley pulled him to the side of the hall, waiting for the other students that were slowly milling about them, leave. Once the hallway was moderately empty, Crowley reached into his bag and pulled out a manila file. 

“I thought you would want to know.” Crowley suddenly said, looking away from Castiel's hooded face. "About your precious little boyfriend,"

A zing rushed through Castiel at that, _boyfriend._ Sure they'd only  _just_ kissed, but he liked the idea of being Dean's boyfriend. Taking the folder from Crowley's grasp, Castiel curiously pulled it open, taking out a newspaper clipping and other bits of paper inside. Myriads of photos of both males and females were scattered all over the file, and a list names crossed out on a separate piece of paper. He reached for the newspaper. 

 _“Who’s afraid of the big bad wolf? Mass murders across_ _USA_ _.”_  

“I didn’t expect something like this to happen. A killer in our school,” Crowley continued, taking hold of the paper filled with names, leafing through it until he reached the last name. “But you seem to be the next victim,” 

And there, just under the last crossed out name, was his name.  _Castiel Novak._

No...no way. What the hell? Castiel’s eyes widened, his gaze turning to the doorway, looking out to the car where his potential boyfriend sat. What had Dean been doing to these girls? He wouldn’t kill them would he?  _…but I don’t really know him that well…_  

Castiel knew he loved Dean, there was bno doubt about that now. But...if this was true, then what did he feel after knowing this?

“What am I going to do?” 

He felt a reassuring hand around his waist as he was pulled towards Crowley.  “It’s alright. I’ll protect you from him.” 

 

 

Dean sat in his baby brothers car, his Baby was in the shop waiting for him to tune her up. He looked forlorn, leaning up against the slightly risen window, arms crossed over, elbows out, watching the waning figure of the red cloaked man of his dreams speaking to a demon. He didn't know what they were doing, Castiel's back was to him, and that pretty cloak didn't allow much visibility to what was happening.

Dean wanted to tear through Crowley, stick a knife in him for even thinking about talking to  _his_ Cas. But no, there were certain things that he just couldn't do. And murder was one of them. Crowley was an ass, but he was good people. They were probably just talking about class work or something. He shouldn't be so jealous of another man taking to what was his.

“You mutt…” Sam muttered, smirking as he turned to look at what Dean was staring at. Dean didn’t even bother to retort, he just sat there, listening to his brother. “You look like a dog waiting anxiously for his master to return.” 

“If that’s what it takes to have him,” Dean finally said his voice low as if he was dreaming. “Then  _woof, woof_ …” 

Sam turned around in his seat again, eyeing the feeble male sitting in his back seat. “You really love him don’t you?” 

“Of course I do!” Dean stated, offended that he thought otherwise. “He’s such a tasty little morsel.” 

Sam chuckled lightly. “You really do live up to your name don’t you?” 

Dean raised an eyebrow, hoping for Sam to continue; instead he was interrupted by the gorgeous angel on his mind walking back to them. His eyes brightened as he sat up properly, pulling the door open for Castiel. 

But Castiel made his way to Sam first. "I'm going to walk home today," he said, giving Dean a quick glance. "I'll see you tomorrow,"

Dean's face fell, he glared at Crowley, who was standing a few feet away, arms crossed over his chest, a manila folder in his arms. Looking bored, as if he was waiting for Castiel to brush them away.

"Yeah..." Sam said slowly, peering at his brother in the back seat. "Sure, pick you up tomorrow then,"

Dean watched as Castiel gave them a small smile, stepping away from the car and back towards Crowley. Fucking Crowley. The demon wrapped his arm around Castiel's, escorting him back home -- or wherever they were going. He felt Sam looking back at him, watching him snarling angrily at what was happening.

They were supposed to go back to Dean's house, they were supposed to go into Dean's room so they could talk about what happened, about what that kiss meant. That Dean  _wanted_ it, just as much as Castiel did. He was sure Castiel loved him too, with the way he hung about him, how he'd smile a little brighter, talk a little higher with happiness, how he'd always be around their house, how he'd beeline towards Dean. 

But. He hadn't expected this!

“Whatever you’ve done, demon,” He muttered through his snarl, sounding a lot more vicious. “I will get you,” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun dun duuuuunn...  
> Stupid Crowley, putting thoughts into Castiel's head.


	3. Chapter 3

The sun was slowly setting in the distance, the heat making Castiel sweat a little under his dark red cloak. He sighed and for the umpteenth time since they had left the school grounds, he shrugged Crowley's arm from around his shoulders. There was always that uneasy feeling in his stomach whenever he was near Crowley, but having to walk home with him now, it was suffocating. 

He hated having to leave Dean in his car, he had looked so heartbroken. Castiel had to step back, he couldn't even look into Dean's eyes, because he knew if he did, then he'd have sat in that car, not caring about anything, and driven back to the safety of the Winchester home.

He had gotten so used to following the larger man around, Dean was only in school part time, so Castiel never really had many classes with him. He only saw him in the hallways sometimes, or when they ate together at lunch. But the fact that he got the chance to see Dean, and having Dean drive him and Sam back to their home.  It was safe to say Castiel was getting a little spoiled with the absolute crush he had on the man. Dean was  _only_ a few years older than him, just four measly years. And that was something Castiel had first been worried about, but there was something about Dean, something that glinted in those beautiful green eyes, that told Castiel that Dean was just as interested in him as he was with Dean.

_Oh, he hoped!_

Castiel would have been at Dean's house right now, either studying with Sam, helping Mary cook something delicious, sometimes he'd sneak away to watch Dean working on his Baby – which always made the heat around Castiel soar to uncomfortable heights, because Dean in an old, and tight shirt, engine grease staining his skin, and the slight sheen of sweat...oh god...

Sometimes, he'd spend the evening watching a new movie or tv show with the brothers. Or doing something exciting and fun, instead of going straight back home and sitting in his room, his family not knowing, or caring, where he was and where he went.

Going to the Winchester's, it was becoming an addictive habit of his. And right now, he hated what he had done. Dean would understand, right? Though Castiel may have been like a little sheep following him around, he had learned a lot about the man. But...if what Crowley was saying was true...

...did he really know everything he wanted to know about Dean?

Sure, there was a very predatory and scary air about the man, something demonic in a sense, like an animal rattling in a cage, wanting out. But that was what had drawn Castiel in to him. 

God, he shouldn't have left Dean alone, not being with him made Castiel miserable.

Crowley said he knew more about Dean, he also said he knew more about Castiel and his family. And honestly, anything was better than going home to a place where no one acknowledged your existence, whether you were here or there.

He had seen the love between the Winchester's and their family and friends, and he wanted desperately to be a part of it. He wanted to learn everything there was to learn about Dean Winchester especially. If those files, and newspaper articles, were correct, and they really were about Dean, then Castiel wanted to make sure he was safe, that he was sane.

_"I want to take my morsel home with me,"_

If Castiel had stayed with Dean, what would he had done? Would Dean have really murdered him? Like he had the others? Was he really like that?

Even though his heart was telling him it was wrong, that Dean wasn't like that, that he was a good man, with a possessive and animalistic tendency. Castiel really didn't know him enough to go against the proof sitting in front of him.

"I can't believe someone like Dean would do something like this," Crowley said, breaking the eerie silence between the two.

Castiel nodded, not really listening to the man. He wasn't sure what to think. But the very idea of Dean using his lovers, men and women, and then killing them? Was there a reason why? Or was it just...because he could?

He had to get his mind off the situation somehow. Because though his heart was screaming at him that no, Dean wasn't like that. The proof...

He was torn.

His house came into view a few moments later, and he was suddenly glad he didn't live too far away from school. He really didn’t want to spend another minute with Crowley.

However, if Crowley could find so much information on Dean, then maybe he could tell Castiel if he had anyone else, any other family, around the city? Someone who lived close by, someone who loved him?

That would take his mind of the alluring Dean Winchester, that was for sure.

"Thank you for walking me home," Castiel started, stepping away from Crowley. The other followed him, taking a step forward with every step back he took. "But...can I ask you for a favour?"

Crowley raised an eyebrow at Castiel. "What do you want?"

"You found so much information about Dean," Castiel started, twisting the ends of his cloak around his fingers, he knew he shouldn't divulge too much information about his private life to the man, but if Crowley could help... "Can you find someone in my family that lives close by?"

"Like a relation?" Crowley asked, slowing his steps, as if he wanted to spend a little longer time with the cloaked man. 

Castiel nodded. "Someone other than my father and siblings,"

Crowley raised an eyebrow, taking a moment to really assess what was happening. Castiel wasn't sure if it was a good idea to have asked Crowley this, but he had gotten all that information about Dean, and many of the files had been stated 'confidential', so maybe Crowley had someone on the inside?

"I'll see what I can do," he replied.

Castiel's eyes widened and he smiled. The idea of hopefully finding someone,  _anyone,_ who would care for him, who was part of his family. It made a rush of delight grow inside him.

He was so eager to reach for his phone and tell Dean the good news, like he usually did...but he paused. He was trying to keep his distance from Dean right now. Though the familiar pang of guilt and pain resided in his heart, he pocketed his phone once again.

Saying a quick goodbye to Crowley, he made his way back into his house. Not noticing the gleaming smirk on Crowley's face.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the lovely comments!  
> Just a quick one today~!

Frustrated, Dean growled for the nth time that day as he watched the red cloaked man – who had slowly grown so important in his life and had wheedled his way into his heart – avoid him.  

He had tried to speak to Cas, to try and just say hello, like they usually did whenever he was in school. But there he was, once again, running away from him. Why was Cas avoiding him? 

He stuffed his books into his bag, not caring how rough he was being with them. He slung the strap over his shoulder and made his way down the busy hallways and to the cafeteria. His stomach growling at him in protest, he wasn't sure if this was a hunger for food, or a hunger for the red cloaked beauty that followed him around. 

He knew Sam was still in class, and he was kind of glad for that. He'd usually spend some time with his classmates and friends, but right now, he just wanted to sit alone and bask in the confusion as to what had happened to make Castiel not want to talk to him, or see him, any more. 

Had the kiss scared him off? Or had Crowley said or done something? 

It... couldn't have been the kiss, right? Cas had kissed him back, and he had looked like he wanted to continue kissing long after Dean had pulled away – which had been a stupid idea – Cas had looked so wrecked, with his kiss bruised lips and dark eyes. It had taken everything inside Dean to walk away. 

And now he wished he hadn't. 

Dragging his feet, he rolled his eyes at the long line leading to the cafeteria hot meals, saying a hello to his fellow classmates and friends. They offered him a seat, and he was ready to just try and busy his mind with his friends than actually sit there like some love-sick puppy. So, he instead sought the closest vending machine, intent to just fill the empty void in his chest with whatever he could. Picking a greasy, yet surprisingly healthy, looking sandwich – Sam would be proud -- and a drink, he made his way to the table with his fellow friends who were waving him over. 

There was no Castiel. 

He wrinkled his nose in annoyance. Where the hell was that pretty thing? He'd usually be sitting right next to Dean, watching him, sharing his extra portions of food and laughing along as Sam and Charlie told jokes and had a merry time. 

"That Crowley's a sneaky one," A familiar males voice reached Dean's ear.  

Dean snarled at the name and looked up to see Victor talking to what's-his-face from E-Con, leaning in close and gossiping loudly. 

What the fuck had that demon done now? 

"What did he do?" What's-his-face asked, echoing Dean's thoughts. 

Dean leaned in closer, as Victor did the same, whispering just as loud. "You know the red cloaked guy, Castiel Novak?" - what's-his-face nodded. "Crowley tricked him into believing Dean Winchester is an abusive murderer, that he uses people and then kills them," 

 _...what? What the_ _ever loving_ _fuck?_  

 _That_ was not something Dean had ever expected to happen. Who even came up with this shit? Honestly, him, killing someone after using them? What did they think he was? 

"And he believed him?" 

Yeah, what the hell? Why would Cas believe something like that? Dean had done no such thing. That asshole was making shit up to get a rise out of him, and to keep Cas away. He was going to get it, that demonic son of a bitch was going to get what was coming to him. 

But first, he'd have to get Castiel back on his side. Because  _fuck that._  

"He had really god proof, or so I heard," Victor nodded, rolling his eyes as he picked up his tray and made his way to the tables. Dean followed them dutifully, acting as nonchalant as he could. 

"We all know Crowley's the player around here," Victor continued, meandering through the many people around them. "He was kicked out of his last school because he slept with a teacher," 

 _No way..._ that fucking bastard! 

"And I heard he's going to find a fake family member for Castiel," Victor added, watching as What's-his-face's eyes widened, a gasp escaping his lips. "Yeah, it's true. The Novak's aren't a happy family, and I hear that Castiel wants out. It's why the older one, Gabriel left too," 

"Crowley's a sly one," What's-his-face retorted, placing his tray down on the empty table in front of them, not noticing the fuming and angry Winchester standing behind them. 

Crowley was going to die, let it be known that Dean was going to fucking mutilate the man for even thinking about talking to his Castiel. 

He slammed his food down onto the table next to the two students and let out an animalistic growl. The two stared up at him, white with fear. 

"Where did you hear all of this?" Dean asked, trying to reign his anger in. It would be pointless to scare the crap out of these two, they might clam up and he'd get nothing. 

"Meg!" Victor said with a whimpering wince. "She heard them when they were walking on the street yesterday, she heard Crowley talking on the phone," He gulped at the vicious glare Dean gave him. "I swear man, it was all Meg," 

He reached for Victor then, holding him up by his collar, and dragging him up off his seat. "If I hear you're lying to me—" 

Victor shook his head, grasping at his collar, in hopes to suck in some precious air into his lungs. Dean was a freakin' beast! "I swear it!" 

"Don't kill him!" What's-his-face cried, tugging at Dean's arm. 

"Oh, I'm not gonna kill you," Dean said, smirking wide as an idea sprung to his mind. One that would not only help keep Crowley away, but make it so Castiel would learn how much Dean really cared about him. "You two douche bags are going to help me deliver a message," 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year~!  
> Sorry this has come so late, but hospitals, medicine and all that icky stuff at the start of the new year is murder on any happy, productive thoughts.  
> Though fret not my darling reader you, I will definitely get this finished~!

Where was everyone?

Castiel slowly dragged his feet against the hallway, sighing for what seemed to be the umpteenth time that day. Usually he’d be spending his breaks in the cafeteria or the fields with Dean and his friends, or spending it in the library with Sam, or even just hanging out with Charlie or Kevin. But he hadn’t seen anyone at all that day. Other than in class. It was as if they had all just completely vanished from the building.

Boredom seeped into him, and he dragged his feet, pacing the building to make the time go faster. He didn’t feel like going into the library, and the fields just weren’t as fun when you were by yourself.

Surprisingly, he hadn’t even seen Crowley that day either – not that that wasn’t a bad thing. He was in no way disappointed that that demon wasn’t around him. He’d rather be as far away from Crowley as humanly possible. Though the man _was_ trying to help him, by searching for someone in the city – or the country – who was related to Castiel, or at least someone who _knew_ the Novak’s personally, and more than just for his title and money. Those heated looks and his lingering touches just rubbed Castiel the wrong way.

Where was Dean when Castiel needed him the most?

He may have been selfish right now, but he had gotten so used to being around Dean that his body almost physically ached when the man wasn’t around. He was becoming addicted to Dean Winchester; that was for definite. And honestly, Castiel wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or now.

His thoughts wandered to the amorous man, as they usually did at times like this – however, usually he’d be in bed, or somewhere private, where’d he’d have the joy of just letting his fantasies roam free.

He hadn’t seen Dean since he had left him with Sam after class yesterday. His heart still ached at the thought of having to leave Dean all alone in the car. His heart had ached at the idea, _it still ached._ The crestfallen look Dean had on his face as he watched Castiel leave had been etched into Castiel’s mind. He knew Dean was wondering what was happening, why Castiel was going with Crowley all of a sudden, without giving him a real reason why, but…unfortunately, it was too late. It had already been done.

Was that why Castiel couldn’t find him?

Was Dean avoiding him?

It was odd, this feeling. They weren’t exactly dating, sure they had kissed, but Dean hadn’t really called Castiel his boyfriend, or lover, or whatever. They didn’t exactly have name for whatever this was. It was still too fresh. They had only just kissed, and then had been interrupted by Crowley of all people, before they really got a chance to talk.

But Castiel’s heart ached, as if deep down, he knew he belonged to Dean.

So lost in his thoughts, he didn’t see the two students rushing through the corridors behind him, not until they swerved around him and almost made him barrel into them.

“Novak, wait!”

Castiel looked up at his name and saw Victor holding a plastic folder propped up in front of his face. With a confused look, Castiel peered around the folder and saw the two – he could never really remember the other students’ name, even though they were both in his class – doubled over, as if they were trying to catch their breaths.

Castiel politely waited for them, but Victor just shook the plastic folder in front of his face, forcing Castiel to take it from his hands.

“What is this?” he asked, turning the folder over in his hands. There wasn’t a name, or a class sheet on it, like usual school folders had. It was a white plastic, with a green strip along its bottom, not the school colours either. The front was completely blank, save for sticker with the name of the store they had brought it from at the very bottom. However, there was something inside it, a few leafs of paper probably.

“Crowley wanted us you give this to you,” Victor replied, standing up and straightening himself out.

Castiel’s eyes widened and he held the folder up in front of him, getting a look at the white plastic once again before holding it close to his chest. He didn’t get a chance to thank the two, as they turned and bolted away from Castiel. The sight of them running back down the corridor was quite an odd, yet extremely funny. They looked like they had wolves chasing them.

His attention was brought back to the folder and he peeled the plastic cover open. Looking around, he saw it was pretty pointless to do this in the middle of the hallway, so he ducked into the closest empty room he could find. Turning on the lights, he settled into the closest chair by the door and held the folder up once again.

This was it. This was going to tell if there was a relative of his in the city, or at least just nearby. Hopefully inside, it would have information of a family member who would love him, take care of him, and explain to him just _why_ his father was shunning him.

Inside was a folded up piece of paper. Castiel took it out and slowly opened it. It was an aerial map of the city. The paper was slightly yellowing, turning sepia, like a treasure map, and it made Castiel feel a little giddy. This was suddenly feeling a lot more like an avid adventure, like the ones in the books he liked to read. Taking a look at the map, he saw a big red circle drawn over what looked to be a small cottage or a house in the middle of a forest – the forest just by his house in fact. Below the circle was a yellow post-it note with the words _‘be sure to bring your grandmamma something sweet to eat’_ written clearly on it with black sharpie.

Castiel smiled brightly with delight. Happiness and warmth radiated through him. He had a grandmother? He had finally found someone who would love him, and not shun him and hide him in a red hood!

_It was so close to his house…_

To think, if he had been brave enough to venture into the forest when he was little, instead of staying cooped up, stranded, in his home, all those years when he was younger. Then maybe, just maybe, he may have met his grandmother.

He ran his fingers over the circle part of the map, forcing the location into his memory. Taking his phone out, he did a quick search or the location. Zooming in, he saw there was indeed a nice, large reserve home in the middle of the forest, there was a large lake behind the house, and vast acres of land before and around it.

He couldn’t wait to see who lived in that house. It was too big to house just one person, and he hoped he could meet more than just one family member. Maybe by doing this, he’ll understand what is wrong with him, and understand why his father is doing this to him.

Saving the location on his phone, he slid the map back into the folder and then safely into his satchel. Nodding to himself, he patted against his bag, knowing the map was safe inside.

He planned to visit his grandmother straight after class.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So we're finally getting to the...forest part of the story.  
> I wonder who this 'grandmamma' is...?


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so this one is a bit...quick, but I'm trying to finish all of the fics I have up so I can make way for newer ideas.  
> So...grain of salt, my dears.

Thick wads of old newspapers were shoved haphazardly into his backpack as Dean sat in one of the tables in the school cafeteria. He held a thick book in his hands, while he ate a sandwich with his other. Though his thoughts were not on the words on the book before him, but on the newspapers in his bag.

Who would have thought Crowley was a  _literal_ demon?

Dean loved reading stories about axe murders, serial killers, and criminals. He lapped up the conspiracies, and enjoyed the moments when the good guys triumphed over the bad. But those stories made the bad guys, the killers, seem so fantastical. They were always brooding, and easy to spot in a large crowd. He had never expected to see one in the flesh, to see someone who was _normal_ have such an abnormal mind. Though Crowley was not  _normal_ in any sense, he didn't have the distinct 'killer' vibe. He was more of a douche. 

What was he thinking of doing with Cas?

Now  _that_ was why Dean had come up with his ingenious plan. To take down a killer, he had to think like a killer. He just had to make sure everything was set in motion. It wouldn't work if there were any problems along the way. For instance, if Cas didn't agree...

Cas  _had_ to agree.

His thoughts were interrupted by Victor and What's-his-name rushing through the cafeteria, almost barreling over a pulled out seat, before stopping before him. They quickly caught their breath and collected themselves, trying to act cool and calm, though Dean could see the obvious bubbling of excitement they had for fulfilling their task for him.

Dean raised his eyes up to them, expecting them to answer without prompt to do so.

Victor sucked in a brave breath, glad that Dean didn't look like he was going to maul him for interrupting his break. Say what you want about how _good_ Dean Winchester was, the man was a demon when he wanted to be. A wolf in disguise, no doubt.

"He took the bait," What's his face replied, with a satisfied smirk.

The look on Dean's face shut him right up. Those eyes narrowed, making Dean look almost insane with rage. No one dared call Castiel Novak anything but good words in front of Dean Winchester.

Victor slapped the back of his head. "Novak will be going tonight, straight after school,"

Dean returned to his book, not bothering to show them just how excited he was at the thought that his little Castiel had taken the map and was eager to go straight to his home in the reserve.

He couldn't wait to show Cas just how much the man meant to him.

Dean smirked, watching as they stood there, waiting to be praised by him. Now he wasn't much for being alpha, or leading a gang or a pack leader, no matter how much he acted like the wolf they had nicknamed him to be. But he did think this whole, whatever it was, was quite enjoyable. It thrilled him.

"Good boys," He said, watching them light up from the inside. "Now, not a word to anyone,"

They nodded, and soon they rushed back to wherever the hell they had come from. Dean didn't bother looking up from the words splayed on his book, not that he was paying attention to them, and his thoughts returned to the newspaper in his bag.

Crowley was a killer.

He just prayed Cas would make it to the reserve, without problems from the douche-dick killer Crowley. How he had gotten into their school, Dean wasn't sure. He had been set on going directly to the principal Chuck Shurley since he had found out about the douche, but Chuck wasn't there – he never was.

Unfortunately attending class was essential, so his plan was to go straight after class and speak to Chuck about how much of an idiot he was to allow an actual killer into the school -- provided the dude was around this time.

"Oi, Flannel,"

Speak of the devil.

Dean was not scared of Crowley, no way no how. It didn't matter if Crowley had done things to other people, his victims, because he was in no way going to touch even a hair on Cas's head, not if Dean had  _any_ say in the matter.And considering he was now dating Cas – not that he had had a proper conversation with Cas about that yes, but the kiss they shared definitely told him he was interested too -- he thought he had some sway.

He rolled his eyes, fighting the urge to get up and knock the demon out. But he really didn't want to touch the man, let alone leave fingerprints of that sallow skin. "What do you want?"

"Seems like your little boyfriend is with me now," Crowley had a look on his face that Dean wanted to wipe right off. It was awful how smug the asshole thought he was.

He wanted to taunt back, to say 'no, Cas is mine', but honestly, he'd rather ruin the assholes reputation and send the fucker straight to jail. But he'd need Cas's help. What better way to take out a killer than to  _be_ a killer.

Getting Cas alone in his home in the middle of the forest, away from any prying eyes, where his screams couldn't be heard. The things he could do.

And Crowley...well, Crowley wouldn't get the chance to hurt what was his. Dean would break the very essence of Castiel before Crowley even got the chance to breathe a word to him.

Dean felt giddy at the idea.

Crowley took a seat opposite Dean, leaning back on the chair and looking so very confident. Dean wished he would be able to see the look on Crowley's face when he found out what Dean had planned.

"I'm going to say this slowly, so your tiny brain can understand," Dean said, ice in his voice as he looked up from his book. He schooled his features, not wanting to give anything away. "Cas is mine. So fuck off."

"Not anymore," Crowley had the audacity to smirk, leaning back against the chair and propping his legs up against the table. Dean grimaced at how close those dirty shoes were to his lunch. But he took that with stride, because this was unlike him, and Dean took pride in the fact that he was shaking the killer up. 

"He is avoiding you," Crowley said, narrowing his eyes at how unfazed Dean was being right now. He had expected the wolf to be frazzled and worried, yet Dean looked calm.

Dean sucked in a breath, looking up at the killer with disgust. "Move your feet,"

When Crowley stared at him, flabbergasted at how unresponsive he was being, Dean got up pushing his feet off the table with one graceful swoop. Crowley stumbled onto his chair with the sudden move.

With the look Dean had given him, the narrow eyes, the almost snarling lips and the actual  _evil_ radiating off him, Crowley shuddered. He knew he was screwed. That was the look of a vicious killer, someone who didn't cater to stupid things like emotions and consequences when it came to something they wanted, and something they wanted savagely erased.

He may have faked Dean being a killer to Castiel, only to get the red hooded rich kid off his scent, but...maybe he wasn't  _that_ far off.

Dean stepped forward, making Crowley fall still like a statue. Crowley sucked in a breath, watching as Dean placed his book back into his bag, taking a sip of the remnants of remnants of his drink. Jumping when Dean crushed the can against the table, and left it there for Crowley to throw away. Crowley felt perspiration break out on his forehead and his pulse quicken in its tempo. 

Shit.

This was...there was no way to shake that there was something frightening about the man, something so scary that it shook Crowley – the man who had killed people before, many times because of all sorts of reasons. 

He suddenly saw Dean in a newer light.

Maybe Dean Winchester was a killer too?

He took in the gracefulness of Dean as the man stood up, throwing his bag over his shoulder and scissoring his leg up. With a harsh cuff to the side of his round body, Crowley choked against the force of Dean's leg spinning and thwacking into his side. He had been too shellshocked to comprehend what the hell had just happened, as he collapsed onto the ground, unconscious.

"Sorry, dick, but I need you out of the picture for now," Dean said to his fallen body, straightening the strap of his bag to his chest. He leaned down and patted the man on his cheek. "We'll play again later."

He had a little red hooded hottie to catch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dean's being a bit...demon-like.


	7. Chapter 7

With a large wicker basket in his hands, filled to the brim with delicious treats and snacks, little Castiel set off into the wilderness that surrounded the back of his house. He felt like he could skip along the dirt path road, but thought against it. Holding the basket safely to his side, he made his way through the thicket of trees and into the forest itself. 

The scent of the treats in his basket was mouth watering. As soon as he had gotten home from school, he had spent a long time trying to make pies and biscuits and treats. But when they all blew up in his face, or burned down to cinders in their baking pans, Castiel sought to buy them from the local bakery – it wouldn't do to have his grandmother be sick on their first meeting. 

When he was little, he had never ventured into the forest, he was always told to stay away. Though he always wondered just why his home was so close to the wilderness. Was it because his grandmother lived there? And that his father could not take being apart for so long? 

Why was  _he_ told never to venture there? 

Those questions didn't matter, because this was Castiel's first time finally finding someone who would love him, someone who would take care of him, someone who would explain just why his own family did not love him. 

"Grandmamma," Castiel said into the air, adjusting his hood over his head until he was safe from prying eyes. "I am coming to you." 

He took his time getting used to the path, making sure to remember exactly where he was going. The map proved helpful, giving him a quick and subtle view of what his surroundings should have.  

He paused to take a break by a patch of wild flowers, leaning back against a thick tree, taking in their gorgeous scent and colours. This place was mystical and beautiful. The trees rose high into the skies, thick leaves canopying the blue skies, letting the slowly setting sunlight permeate through them. The chirping sounds of birds and other animals skittering and flying around him was peaceful. 

It was all so beautiful, and he suddenly understood why someone would want to build a house here and live here. 

Thinking it best to, he wanted to make a good first impression after all. He picked a few of the wild flowers around him, holding them together and placing them in the basket, above the plastic boxes filled with the treats. He smiled as the butterflies sitting on the flowers flitted about around him before flying high into the skies. He got up then, listening to the beauty of nature around him. Spying the sound of a frog croaking in the distance. 

Pulling his phone out again, he took another look at the map, making sure he was on track to the reserve. Seeing he had only a few more meters until he reached the entrance of the reserve, he stood up and made his way down the dirt path. 

He was enjoying the forest so much, that he didn't notice the dark shadow approaching from the forest behind him. Or when it passed through the thick trees right by him and rushed through down the path. 

At the sound of trees and leaves rustling so close to him, Castiel stopped for a moment, listening to the sounds of animals moving, hoping there weren't any large ones that could cause him harm. He quickened his steps a little. 

A few minutes later, he was face to face with a large property, the building was sunken into the ground itself, surrounded by a beautiful meadow. But it had a good few stories. It was beautiful to look at, with a porch that wrapped around the entire property, large windows and welcoming looking wood panels. 

He made his way to the front door, the creak of the wood at his feet sounding a lot more welcoming than he expected. He knocked on the door, giddy that there was someone who finally loved him inside. 

The door creaked open, frightening Castiel a little, but he took a tentative step inside. He was met with a foyer, stairs leading up to the other floors of the house, a few doors here and there, which were all closed, except for one. 

"Hello?" He called out into the dimness of the house.  

It looked empty.  

A croaky, yet surprisingly familiar – though he couldn't pinpoint where he had heard it before - voice echoed through the house. "Who is it?" 

Castiel jumped at that. But he answered. "Castiel Novak," he paused, unsure how to put his situation into light. He hadn't really thought what this would mean for the old woman he was about to meet. "I know this may sound strange, but I think I might be your grandson," 

"Oh, how lovely," The voice spoke again, and a door on the other side of the room creaked open. "Come inside, dear," 

Castiel was a little scared, but he sucked in a brave breath. Now or never. There was a plush rug at his feet, and a well for shoes. Slipping his shoes off, he stepped onto the rug, seeing his feet sink into it. The wood below his feet creaked as he walked deeper into the house, and he suddenly had a feeling of being a character in a scary story. Shivers ran through his body. But he kept on walking, this was his grandmothers' house. This was the house of someone who loved him. 

Holding the basket close to his side, more for protection than anything else, he stopped in front of the slightly open door. 

"I'm coming inside," he said, pushing the door open. 

It wasn't surprising that it too creaked open. Castiel stepped inside, holding the basket to his chest. Looking inside, he saw it was a bedroom. Old, ornate dressers, cupboards and all sorts of bedroom furniture was placed around the large room. But what caught Castiel's eyes was the large bed in the middle of the room. It was canopied with silk looking curtains that were drawn on all sides except one. There was a thick plush carpet by the bed too, and Castiel's socked feet felt cold standing on the wood. 

There was a big bulge under thick covered on the bed, and Castiel ventured closer. He placed the basket onto the dressing table, taking the flowers from inside it, and holding them in his hands. 

"I brought you flowers," he said, feeling like a small child as he held them out to the bed. 

"That's so sweet," The bulge moved, and Castiel's eyes widened. That voice...it was...he recognised that voice. 

"Your voice," Castiel said slowly, making his way closer to the bed, flowers held to his side. He wanted to reach for the covers and pull them off, to prove his suspicions, because he knew that wasn't his grandmother anymore. "It's so familiar," 

The  _grandmother_ coughed lightly, clearing their throat. "I just have a touch of a cold, angel, that's all," 

Now  _that,_ mixed with the pet name. That was all too familiar. With angrily narrowed eyes, Castiel marched over to the bed, yanking the sheets off to show Dean Winchester laying sheepishly on the bed. 

"Want to come into bed with me?" Dean asked, patting the space next to him. 

Castiel's heart ached, and he felt tears reach the corners of his eyes, threatening to fall. He threw the flowers in Dean's face, growling. "Dean Winchester, how could you?" 

Dean sat up then, brushing the petals off of him, reaching out for Castiel. "Come on, angel, you know I didn't mean anything bad by it, I thought it'd be sweet," 

"Sweet?" Castiel turned then, fury raging inside him. "I thought I finally found someone who loved me, and you think this is sweet?" 

Dean reached for Castiel then, tugging him onto the bed. Castiel surprisingly, came willingly, falling into his arms. Dean knew he may have gone about this the wrong way, but he had to make sure Castiel was safe, that Castiel was his. Crowley had warped his mind. He was an idiot. 

"You did find someone who loves you," he replied, quietly confessing his feeling for the beautiful red hooded man before him. "Look, I know I went about this the wrong way, but...Cas,  _I_ love you _,_ I do. And I'm willing to do what it takes to get your family to understand how perfect you are," 

Castiel wilted, leaning onto Dean then, wrapping a tentative hand around Dean's waist. He knew it was all too good to be true. But then again, his abhorrent life had led him here, to Dean, and Dean said he  _loved_ him! Castiel looked up into his beautiful green eyes, seeing the sorrow in them, sadness for what he had done, but also seeing the determination to do whatever it took to make Castiel happy again. 

"I..." Castiel paused, taking in a brave breath, feeling a smile rising to his lips. "I love you too, Dean." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Dean's plan kinda tanked, but its not over yet!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...been a while.  
>  How are you doing?

Dean took Castiel's hand in his, sweeping his magnetic gaze back up to his pretty face. He was desperate to pull the hood back and look into those amazing blue eyes, the ones he had countlessly gotten lost in countless of times. 

"What's the matter?" Castiel asked, sounding a bit hesitant. His face drew hot when he saw the lust-filled glaze in Dean's eyes. The heat increased, warming him up from the top of his head to the tips of his toes. 

"Alright red, I gotta be honest with you," Dean started, reaching out for Castiel's hand, lacing their fingers together. "I've been stuck here alone dreaming of how delicious you are, and I know if I touch you, I'm gonna kiss you. And if I kiss you, clothes are gonna start flying, and I'm not gonna stop until I eat you right up," 

Castiel's cheeks burst a bright red as Dean confessed to him. He felt the heat in him spiral to the pit of his stomach, making him ache for more than just holding Dean's hand. 

"So, if you want to run," Dean said suddenly, loosening his grip on Castiel's fingers. "Do so now, otherwise I won't let you go," 

Castiel hesitated, for just one moment. But not for the reason Dean believed. He wasn't scared of Dean. No, he was scared of himself, because everything Dean was saying sounded absolutely perfect. 

But that little hesitation drew Dean back. "Alright," He said, retreating from Castiel's side and getting up off the bed. "I gotta take a cold shower, I'll see you in school," 

Castiel whined, actually whined at the loss of Dean's hands on his skin. The sound paused Dean in his tracks. "Are you always this crude?" 

"You should know that by now," Dean said with a smirk, reaching again to touch Castiel's smooth skin. God, it was amazing just how  _soft_  he was. 

Dean was incredible, Castiel mused, and every single part of him was completely captivated by the man, from his powerful touch, to his sensuous taste. His warm scent, and his skin. Amazing. 

His mouth blistered a hot trail of open mouthed kisses along Castiel lips, sucking and scraping his teeth alongside his jaw down and pearling marks onto his neck. His breath was scorching hot, and it made Castiel shudder with pleasure.  

Dean buried his face into the curve of his neck, inhaling the scent he found there, moaning at most likely the scent of Castiel's shampoo. Goodness, this man was something else, and he set Castiel on fire. 

His smile was tender, warm and inviting. And if Castiel didn't know any better, he'd swear he saw relief in those beautiful green eyes. Which made no sense, because Dean was the amazing one, Castiel felt the relief that Dean wanted him, that Dean  _loved_ him! 

This time, when Dean kissed him, taking absolute possession of his mouth, Castiel let him, falling into his demanding kiss. It was much bolder than their previous kisses, making Castiel dizzy with it. Dean pulled back long enough to push the hood back from Castiel's face, reaching down to throw the red hood away completely. He tugged at the buttons of Castiel's shirt, while Castiel peeled off his shirt, desperate for Dean to feel the same as he was. 

Dean let out a peel of laughter, that did all sorts of things to Castiel's insides. He couldn't help but want that mouth on him again, to taste the salt of his skin on his tongue, so while Dean was tugging at his buttons, taking his shirt off in slow, concise steps, Castiel made it his duty to trail a path of pleasure with his lips over Dean's jaw and down his neck. 

Dean hissed, tugging a little harder on Castiel's shirt, pressing kiss upon kiss on Castiel's lips, showing him just how lost and feral he was feeling. 

"I... want you," Castiel murmured into his skin, sound breathless. 

That spurred Dean on to work faster. He paused his kisses at Castiel's throat, tracing a path with his tongue, feeling the heavy and rabbiting heart beat pulse and pound with his excitement. 

A shudder ripped through him as he leaned away from the man. Through half-lidded eyes, Castiel saw just how...different Dean looked right now. His eyes had darkened, his mouth looking fuller, bruised by their shared kisses, and so much more tempting. If Castiel believed any of the things Crowley had told him about Dean Winchester, he would have believed it right there and then. Dean looked wild, untamed and so much like a wolf the news clippings had made him out to be.  

He looked like he was barely under control. 

"My, my, my," He murmured, feeling so hot and loving this look on the man. His eyes darkened too, as he reached out to stroke the warm skin of Dean's chest. "What dark eyes you have," 

Dean chuckled, deeply. "The better so see you with, my dear," 

Castiel giggled, focusing on Dean's face once again, his eyes caught Dean's mouth, his lips, and his teeth. His teeth. There was something different about his teeth. But before Castiel had the chance to investigate, Dean covered his mouth with his own. 

The kiss was long, and drugging, so powerful and wonderful that it made Castiel almost cry with want, unashamed that he was moaning and writhing under Dean's skilful mouth. The rich taste of him, added to the moist heat of his mouth awakened something primitive inside Castiel, something that demanded more. 

But something still stirred inside Castiel. He saw the look on Dean's face just before they kissed. Was he really the animal Crowley had told him? Had he really killed all those people? Would he do the same to him? 

"W-wait--" he said into the kiss, weakly pushing Dean away, though his body protested profusely at the thought. "You—those people...Crowley told me--" 

Dean pulled back, those dark eyes penetrating into Castiel's own. "I overheard what Crowley told you, it's all a lie. I would never do that to anyone. Especially you." He pressed their foreheads together, taking in a shaky breath. "I love you, Cas, I would never let anything hurt you," 

"Dean." 

Dean ran his thumb over Castiel's spit slicked lips, his other hand tracing patterns over his stomach, eyes boring intensely into his own. Castiel was shaking, he felt like he was flying, dying a little inside, burning up and freezing. Overwhelmed, he let out a loud moan, unable to take it. 

"I need to her you say it," Dean said, pulling away. 

"Say it?" Castiel asked, another low whine releasing from his lips as Dean moved  _farther_ _away!_ No, don't go. Come closer! 

"Why haven't you pushed me away?" Dean asked, though his voice was mocking, teasing. He leaned over Castiel then, fingers pressing featherlight on his skin, making goose bumps erupt all over his flesh. "Why have you stopped me?" 

"Because--" Castiel started, but gasped when that feather soft touch trailed a blaze of fire over his chest, down to his navel and tugged on the hem of his jeans. Oh god, what was he going to say? 

Dean smirked, moving his hands lower still, trailing a delicious path along his hips. He made quick work of undoing the button of Castiel's jeans, smile widening when he heard the tell tale hitch in Castiel's breath.   

"Because...?" He asked, teasingly. 

"Because I don't want you to," Castiel let out a breath, falling back onto the bed and letting Dean do as he pleased. 

Dean's eyes widened, but that smirk was still evident on his beautiful face. Castiel moaned once again, hands reaching up for Dean, urging him to move, to do something. His maddeningly soft and slow movements were driving him insane. 

Just to add fuel to the fire, Dean asked; "You don't want me to what?" 

Castiel gasped, feeling and seeing those fingers tug on his zipper and dive into his underwear, reaching for where Castiel needed him the most. 

"Don't stop..." Castiel gasped, feeling the fleeting shifting of Dean's hands on his growing cock, those thick fingers wrapping and squeezing at the base of his cock. His other hand moved to Castiel's jaw, tugging him up until their eyes met.  

He was waiting...waiting for Castiel to give him permission. 

"My...what big teeth you have," Castiel murmured breathlessly. 

Dean smiled, seeing the permission in his words, and playing along with the game. "All the better to eat you up with," 

Castiel knew it would be impossible to go back to what they were before. He knew nothing would ever be the same, and he honestly couldn't make himself care. Dean's eyes traced patterns over every part of him, while his touch did wicked things to him. His lips pressed kisses upon kisses all over his body. Making Castiel squirm, and whimper and melt into him. Dean was strong, that was for sure, solid too, and his hands felt like fire, squeezing and grasping at flesh, making Castiel absolutely mindless at the onslaught. 

Castiel felt safe here, but at the same time his body felt so small under the man. His mind tipped the scales, voice screaming out moan after moan, reciting Dean's name like it was a prayer. His thoughts were spinning, falling into nothing by breathy moans, praises and Dean's name, over and over and over again. 

He knew he was gone, he knew he would crave this forever. Nothing would ever compare to the feel of being with Dean. Nothing else would satisfy him, nothing else would ever make him feel this whole, this complete ever again.  

"Cas...love you, Cas" Dean's voice was just as breathless as his. And Castiel knew he was utterly possessed by the wolf in Dean. He was Dean's, but just as much as Dean was his. 

If Dean asked for him to never move from this bed again, Castiel would comply. He'd do anything Dean asked, anything he wanted. 

He came back down from his high slowly, trembling, sticky with sweat, heart jack rabbiting faster than he would have thought possible. They were silent for a long while, hands playing with whatever part of the other they could reach. Dean's fingers dug into his hair, playing with the short strands almost tenderly. 

Soon, their breathing calmed down to a rhythm steady pattern, and Castiel lay asleep, exposed and vulnerable to Dean and his love. 

"I love you, Cas," Dean murmured quietly, warming at the tired smile on Castiel's lips. Making sure the man was asleep, he reached back to the night stand, pulling open the drawer and taking out a small silver knife. He held the knife in his hands, checking the weight of it. 

Taking one long look at the beauty on the bed, he let out a long breath. 

"But I'm not who you think I am," 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...wait, what?
> 
> Questions are welcome...let's see what you think!


	9. Chapter 9

Dean placed the red stained knife onto the edge of the sink, and turned the tap on in the bathroom, letting a clear stream of warm water fall into the porcelain. He thrust his red coated hands into the stream, turning the once transparently crystal water into a dark rouge.

A smile reached his lips as he turned to the bedroom, seeing his beauty, the man he loved, laying on the bed, coated in the same red he was washing off his fingers. He let out a loud sigh, looking up to the speckled ceiling with a smile. Cleaning the knife, he slid a cloth over it, drying it, and placed it on the dresser next to the sleeping angel.

"I'm sorry I put you through this," he murmured to the man, who lay unmoving on the bed. "But I gotta do this,"

Pulling on his jeans, he took his time to shrug on his shirt, buttoning it up. The morning sunlight penetrated through the slightly parted curtains, the breeze was cool, making the curtains sway. Sliding on his socks and shoes, he tied them up one by one, before placing a hand on Castiel's leg, taking one last look at the scene left behind him.

"I had to do it," he muttered to himself, as he got up. Taking one last, long, lingering look back to the bed, he closed the door and left the house.

_He_   _had to do it_

Crowley's eyes widened as he peered through the windows of the cottage preserve in the middle of the woods. He had followed Castiel last night, when he found out what had happened from those two lackeys. It had been so easy to weasel the truth out of them.

With his head held high, he knew he wouldn't get caught. They'd not be expecting him at all. And this was such a lovely scandal, to see a Novak shacking it up with a pathetic Winchester. Castiel's name would be slandered, torn apart, and then, when he had gotten over his sadness, Crowley would take him away from it all. And use his anger against him.

Perfect.

He had gotten there that morning, phone in hand, ready to take pictures of the two in post coitus. The front door was locked, so he made his way around the house, to see a window ajar. Peering inside, he saw the bedroom.

Blood…

It was everywhere. All over the bed sheets, the walls, the ground. And on the bed, in nothing but the red cloak and the silky bloodstained sheets lay Castiel, still looking as stunning and beautiful as ever.

Dead…

Crowley's eyes widened at the scene before him, murder written in his eyes as he swung the window closed and sauntered back into the woods.

Castiel was his...his to kill, his to mutilate.  _He_ was supposed to be the one to enjoy Castiel's last pleasure before he killed him.

He knew he had created a false report about Dean, to take the trail off from himself, but maybe Dean really was a murderer...

And he had taken Castiel...

"I'll get you, Winchester,"

 

"Where is he? Crowley yelled through the busy school courtyard. He saw Dean talking to some random stupid school kid, and made his way to the man.

Dean turned to the enraged man, watching as he huffed and reached into his bag. Crowley pulled out the days newspaper and held it in front of the man.

"Rouge killer!" Dean raised an eyebrow as he read the newspaper headlines. "Senators son, Castiel Novak was found murdered this morning."

Anger welled up inside Crowley, that should have been  _his kill,_ he should have been the one rejoicing,  _not Dean Winchester!_

"How could you do this?"

"Me?" Dean asked, his eyes narrowed, annoyed as he took the newspaper from Crowley's hands and folded it up in his hands. 

"You son of a bitch," Crowley all but yelled to the man. "Fucking bastard, you actually killed him,"

He didn't notice the audience gathering around the two, students and faculty alike hoping for some sort of a show as the two rivals started one another down. Dean looked around, a smirk on his face when he noticed a redhead holding a camera in her hands, pointing it at the two of them.

" _I_ killed him?" Dean asked, acting shocked. Though his heart ached at the memory of how Castiel looked, dead on the bed they had just made love on.

"What, do you think  _I did?"_ Crowley asked, his anger welling up to immeasurable heights up at this point.

Dean raised an eyebrow and nodded. "Yup, you killed him. Along with the other people you've killed," 

“What?” Crowley asked, stepping in closer to the taller man. “What are you talking about?”

Dean shrugged his shoulders, as if to make a point. “You didn’t expect the lie you spun about me to come true, did you?”

“Of course not, that was my past being turned on you.” He stated haphazardly, he wasn’t going to let his cocky rival win against him. He continued, not knowing where he was, only knowing that he should win against Dean. “Making it look like it was you who killed those people, not me. After all, who would think that someone like me would kill when they have someone as vicious as you?”

Dean rolled his eyes at that, seriously, everyone who knew Dean knew exactly what he was like. So, he was a bit possessive and protective, he'd never...well, he'd never kill anyone unintentionally.

A resonating sound of gasps echoed like a wave across the crowd of students. Crowley's face paled, he took in a deep breath, knowing that he had been found out. 

“It’s all a lie.”

“It’s too late Crowley,” Dean chuckled lightly as two large police officers and the school principal parted through the crowd. “You’ve been found out. It’s over.”

“Fergus Crowley,” The principal said, watching as the two police officers took a strong grasp of one of his students. “You have been sentenced to imprisonment at the county jail for case of serial murders. Take him away.”

Crowley growled angrily as he struggled against the two men’s hold.

Dean patted his on the cheek. “Leave the growling to the experts.”

His smile only widened when eyes caught a familiar red cloak, and a beautiful man walking through the entrance of the school building, a hood placed over his head and a small basket in his hands. 

Crowley paused in his struggling to get out of the police officers' hold, his eyes drifted to the red man walking over to them, a large smile on his face as he placed the basket on the ground b their feet and wrapping his arms tight around Dean's neck.

"You didn't kill him?" Crowley asked, incredulously. Unable to believe what he was seeing. But...he saw...that morning...in the house. "He was dead this morning,"

Dean chuckled low, wrapping his arms tighter around Castiel's waist. "I'd never hurt him, it was all a set up for you."

"We knew you'd snoop around," Castiel continued. "So, I planned for Dean to stage it as if he had killed me,"

"And you fell for it," Dean's laugh resonated through the courtyard, "You really shouldn't snoop you know,"

Crowley struggled against the security guards hold, trying to get to the two that had framed him, and made him confess. "I'll get you Dean Winchester,"

Dean took hold of Castiel's hand, never wanting to let it go. Even though it had all been staged, that the death had been planned and been fake. He still wouldn't be able to get the memory of Castiel on the bed, pale by the makeup, and splashed with the red paint all over his body. Looking dead. He never wanted to lose Cas.

His grip tightened and he made his way through the crowd, until he got to Charlie, the two students who had helped him, Victor and What's-his-face were standing behind her. Charlie handed him the camera and he popped the memory card out, passing it over to the principal and the police officers.

“This confession should suffice against the court.” Dean stated. One of the police officers took hold of the card and pocketed it.

“You’ve done a fine job, Winchester.” The principal said, patting the young man on his shoulder.

Dean nodded, watching as he, alongside the Crowley and the police officers headed out of the school grounds, and into the police car that was parked right outside.

Dean narrowed his eyes at the murderous look Crowley gave him, but he let it go. What could Crowley do, now that he was going to jail? 

Castiel's grip on his hands tightened, and he turned his attention to his lover. Seeing Cas, alive and well, warm and so beautiful, it made his heart swell with heat.

"I love you, Cas," he murmured, pressing their foreheads together.

Castiel smiled, so brightly. "I love you too Dean,"

 

~~ 

The story over, the words finally nearing their end. The memories of Castiel Novak were forever imprinted into the mind of his lover Dean. After all, Castiel was murdered for anyone else but Dean, his heart, his love. And Dean, taken over by his love and succumbed to the passion of his red hooded lover.

The wolf in Dean was, after all, ready to eat his little Castiel, all swathed in red, and what a tasty morsel his little red was.


End file.
